


Armistice

by hellkaiserryose (ManicPixieDreamPharaoh)



Series: Darkness Falling Leaves Nowhere To Go [2]
Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! GX
Genre: Art Trade, Developing Relationship, Edoryo, M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-16
Updated: 2017-07-16
Packaged: 2018-12-02 20:35:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11516976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ManicPixieDreamPharaoh/pseuds/hellkaiserryose
Summary: They knew too much about one another, yet nearly nothing at all. But sharing a bed for months at a time, the only solace from outside threat the few blankets in a large mansion and the warm body at one’s side, breath against a neck while drifting into sleep, cold feet that press to legs no matter how often they’re kicked away, becomes normal, becomes routine. Becomes comfortable.





	Armistice

**Author's Note:**

> My half of an art trade with the wonderful [Starmie](http://sexystarmie.tumblr.com/)  
>   
> The prompt was a song, which can be found [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jfTDdqhMocU)
> 
> Has undergone a minor edit as at 1/11/17,

Cheering crowds always filled Edo with the kind of searing pride that burned warmly in his chest, yet never more than it did for _these_ victories. Chin raised, he gazed across the field at his fallen opponent, steadied on one knee, head bowed, he could feel himself glowing from his win, couldn’t stop himself from grinning at the way his defeated foe refused to fall completely, even now. He turns his head to shoot the grin to the bustling crowd, but doesn’t take his eyes off of the hunched figure for a second. Shaking legs find their footing, and Hell Kaiser Ryo raises himself to his full six feet, standing with his shoulders squared, a pride that can’t be beaten from him like it had the first time they’d faced off. His grin falls into an easy smirk as their eyes meet, and after a flick of the brow to convey respect, Edo places his deck back into its holster on his hip and takes his leave from the decending platform. 

The aftermath was something he’d never been fond of, but he’s had a decade to get good at disguising it. He stands with his manager as reporters question him, grins for photos and shakes the hands of the few small children that were backstage from winning competitions or knowing the right people. Acutely of the sweat plastering his shirt to his spine, he wants nothing more than to rid himself of the tie that’s tight against his throat, to shed off the heavy jacket of is suit. 

Kneeling on the dirty floor, he drapes his arm around the neck of a young boy who’s wearing a shirt that bears his face, flashing a peace sign for the photo. He grins and messes up his hair before climbing to his feet, brushing at the knees of his dress pants. He shoots a look towards his manager, a single cocked eyebrow, and the excuse to given on his behalf, his arm caught with a little more thuggishness than he expected of his team, to lead him to his dressing room where he could finally have a moment to himself. 

He strips his damp clothing before the mirror, gazing at his reflection, the slight flush to his skin from exertion. Despite what he might answer were he asked directly, that had been one _hell_ of a match. As was to be expected at this point, if anyone was to give him a run for his money, it would be Ryo. Not that he’d ever had a hope of winning. Lost in his own image, he wonders if the other man still found himself dripping with sweat after a particularly engaging duel like that, now that he’d stopped the use of the shock transmitters. Ryo was hard to get on the ropes, harder still to actually defeat, so he imagined rousing duels didn’t come easily to him any more. 

Venues didn’t like duelists to linger too long, he knew, so he skipped over a shower, instead opting to thoroughly scourer himself with the provided water wipes. He could shower once he was home, and enjoy it more anyway. He tosses the discarded sheets away once he’s satisfied with the makeshift job. As he dresses into travel clothing, he hopes that escaping the venue without catching attention will be possible, because his persona was definitely sculpted around being the ‘well-dressed prince of the duel world,’ and wearing an oversized hoodie was incongruous with that. For some reason, it mattered, though it didn’t to him.

He pulls on sneakers, adjusts his hair, and digs his hands into the pockets of the sweater, door clicking shut behind him. The one opposite his opens almost immediately after, and he finds himself eye to eye with the man he’d just thoroughly taken down on national television. Or, rather, eye to collarbone. The idiot is too tall. 

Aforementioned idiot drips water onto the floor from his wet hair, flat against his cheeks. He forces himself not to glare, irked that _someone_ has time for a shower. He folds his arms across his chest. “Marufuji Ryo.” He says, hoping his tone conveys something of a polite disinterest. 

“Edo.” The reply is curt, but not unfriendly.

“I have to go. My car is waiting.” A hand wraps around his wrist as he turns to leave, stalling him, and he turns back to look at the other man. 

“Can I come around tonight?”

Edo eyes him contemplatively, before sighing. “I already told you. This can’t… be anything.”

Ryo’s eyes dance slightly in the shitty lighting, betraying a smile he’d never dare let find its way to his mouth. “I believe the term is relationship.” He says, flat tone reminding Edo of just one of the many reasons he’d decided taking things further would be a terrible idea– Edo was abroad so often, which necessitated phone calls, and he count count the times he had heard tone in Ryo’s voice on one hand. “And yes, I know. We can’t date. But, tonight?”

This wasn’t an offer he could refuse while still wanting to accept. Ryo wasn’t going to ask him again, he’d refused too many times. His nobility and pride too gratuitous to resort to begging. He presses his lips together. “Okay. Come over. If you want to eat, bring your own food, I’m not prepared to cater for you.” Ryo was never completely happy with anything he fed him. He tugs his wrist free from his grip, and looks at the water puddling at their feet. “You’re dripping everywhere.” He murmurs, before taking his leave quickly.

****

He’s prone on the sofa when the doorbell rings, hair fluffy and warm from being dried, he rolls his head back on his shoulders and looks towards the door. In literally any other scenario, he would get up and politely answer, but given he knows it’s Ryo, and an attack from Cyber End threw him on his ass today, he figures he might as well not stress his aching back. 

“It’s open!” He calls, tugging his legs in closer to his body, readjusting to sit up and turning the volume up on the tv he’d had for background noise while he’d been reading. He dog-ears the page and fixes his eyes boredly on the tv as the door opens and he hears footsteps approach. Ryo sits at the end of the couch, where his feet are curled up, and Edo turns to look at him. “Hello.”

“Hi.”

The stare at one another through the stiff air for a few moments, each waiting for the other to make the first move. It’d been a week. A week of night after night spent together, a week of the same arm curled around Edo’s waist while he slept. A week of waking up without Ryo there, because they had discussed it, because they had compromised, because it was what Edo had asked for. 

They wanted one another, wanted to be close, to share space and touches and time, but Edo had ruled it impossible, and this was the result. They didn’t quite dance around the subject so much as spit it at one another through piercing jabs that hit too close to the chest. They knew too much about one another, yet nearly nothing at all. But sharing a bed for months at a time, the only solace from outside threat the few blankets in a large mansion and the warm body at one’s side, breath against a neck while drifting into sleep, cold feet that press to legs no matter how often they’re kicked away, becomes normal, becomes routine. Becomes comfortable.

He couldn’t deny it was what he was used to, and that replacing his body with someone else’s was something that didn’t interest him in the slightest. But, tonight. Tonight was the first time they’d dueled since The Decision. Edo had won, and Ryo had still come over, and that meant it was up to _him_ now. He studies his face while he contemplates, his hair curled at the ends because he’d let it air dry, a scattering of facial hair littered his jaw, and Edo lets himself spare a moment of preemptive irritation for how sharp it will be. 

He lets the silence hang thickly between them, taking his time to think, before rolling onto his knees towards him. He lifts body, hooks his hands around his neck, and draws Ryo towards him, kissing him urgently. He presses their lips together, lets their form meld into the sofa, his eyes close as he weaves his fingers through his curls. Hands find the small of his back, and the night melts away around them as they let their skin press to each other, sharing few words while Edo rests his feet in his lap, requesting a footrub he knows Ryo won’t deliver on, a movie neither of them care for playing in the background as they shared the presence of a shared room, the active feeling in a usually dead space, the sound of breathing, of clothing shifting. The tiny interactions both of them had never had a chance to get used to. Physical intimacy aside, it’s the closeness, the sharing of the space, that makes it all so enticing.

Edo gets to his feet before the movie ends, glancing towards Ryo as he covers his yawn with a hand. “I’m tired.”

“It’s early.” He sounds surprised.

“Yeah, well I did spend an hour today getting thrown around by your waste of a deck strategy, so I’m exhausted. You coming?” He asks, toeing off his socks in the doorway to his bedroom. It’s a moment before Ryo stands, his knees popping in the joints, Edo applauds himself for his own restraint at not making an age joke.

Ryo moves to press a soft kiss to his lips, and he turns his face, rolling his eyes. “You can kiss me after you’ve taken your pills.” He deadpans, going to the bathroom and brushing his teeth. He listens to the sounds of Ryo moving about the kitchen, watches in the mirror as he returns and climbs beneath the sheets of the bed. Rinsing out his mouth and then drying his face, he scowls without a hint of malice at the second towel hanging beside his own. 

He makes his own way to the bed, slipping in beside Ryo before rolling onto his side to turn off the lights. Familiar arms tuck around him, a warm chest pressing to his back, and he closes his eyes, wriggling closer to lace the fingertips of his left hand, through those of the one resting against his chest. Ryo lets him, fingers curling together. 

“I don’t see why you have your own towel in the bathroom, this isn’t your home.” He says sleepily, voice soft and hushed in the quiet room. 

Ryo’s nose brushes the back of his neck, voice casting a shiver down his spine. “I’ll put it in the hamper tomorrow, then?” 

Edo opens his eyes to look down at their interlaced hands, feels the soft thud of Ryo’s pulse through his fingertips, and sighs. “Don’t. It’s kind of nice.” He pauses for a moment. “Thank you for coming tonight.” Lips press to his skin as he closes his eyes again, the warmth of sleep starting to wash over him. 

“Goodnight, Edo.”

“Night, Ryo.” He murmurs in reply, falling asleep wrapped in silk sheets and warm arms, wondering if they can ever be more than just lovers in a rush.


End file.
